


How Green Was My Kahana Valley

by Millie (Wren_K)



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Awkward Flirting Between Old Married People, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Established Relationship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Team of BAMFs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-17 04:51:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10586805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wren_K/pseuds/Millie
Summary: Five-0's latest assignment is a literal walk in the park.  Of course when the park is Ahupua'a O Kahana State Park and they're - well -them, things are bound to get complicated.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Art provided by the lovely [mycroft-silently-judges-you](http://mycroft-silently-judges-you.tumblr.com/) 
> 
> My thanks to Angie, everyone should have such a tireless cheerleader; and Suzy, who demanded some Steve whump and pestered me until she got it.

 

  [](http://i86.photobucket.com/albums/k88/MissMilley79/7%20-%203g7eaHN_zpspgrclnkz.jpg)

 

* * *

Honolulu Marina was subdued in the pale light of pre-dawn. The occasional early fishing expedition nervously skirted by the heavily armed group assembling in the parking lot. Steve McGarrett stood at the heart of the assembly, handing out assignments. To Danny’s bleary eyes, his lover looked completely in his element at command. It was a good look on him.

Danny took a long sip of truly excellent coffee. Steve knew better than to skimp on the quality of caffeine when he expected Danny to function at stupid-o’clock. Good coffee or not, Danny would be scheduling their next search warrant; maybe something mid-morning after a leisurely lie-in with Steve. 

Danny gifted himself a few seconds of distraction to appreciate the flex of Steve’s biceps and the teasing hint of tattoo peaking from beneath the tight sleeves of his dark tee. Tactical gear was also a good look on him. Danny smirked around another belt of coffee; with a boyfriend like Steve, a certain amount of smugness was justified.

Steve was wrapping up the individual assignments, time for Danny to start paying attention again. He put the cap on the thermos and placed it in the footwell of the Camaro. 

“Gather up,” Steve called the group in; his steady command simultaneously keyed them up and settled their nerves. There was an edge of anticipated action sparking in the air.

Danny made his way to stand with the rest of his teammates, conducting a final and redundant check of his gear on the way. Adrenaline was thrumming in his veins, a low-key buzzing that made everything sharper. Danny would never admit it out loud – Steve would take the slightest hint of approval and run with it, and Danny did not want to do the paperwork on the resulting chaos, thank you very much – but he loved this sort of thing; especially when he could talk Steve into bringing along adequate back-up.

Steve gave the mission brief in a low tone that wouldn’t carry across the water. “Our search warrant is for the yacht Pākela Inu, currently berthed at the end space of dock 14. Overnight surveillance estimates that there are still ten subjects on board, including two crew members. The subject of our warrant is Beauregard Liddell, twenty-three. You should have each been provided with a photograph of Liddell. Our primary mission is to take Mr. Liddell into custody; the other subjects on board will be detained until they can be identified. Our warrant also includes any electronics that you encounter. So, when you take people into custody, seize any cell phones, tablets, laptops, et cetera – we will sort them out once the primary target has been secured. Mr. Liddell is a computer expert – do not give him the opportunity to get his hands on a computer. None of Mr. Liddell’s guests are thought to be particularly dangerous, but we have not had time for an in-depth background on each of them. Mr. Liddell is known to run with some very dangerous people, so do not assume anything.”

“Five-0 will take point. Custody teams will follow. Detain anyone that you contact and relocate them to the mobile command for processing. Do not question them, do not Mirandize them; detectives will handle that later. Remove your custodies from the ship as quickly and as quietly as possible.” Steve looked to Danny for approval on his grasp of procedure, beaming when he got a slight nod of acknowledgement. 

“Like a damned puppy,” Lou muttered. 

Danny magnanimously pretended to be deaf; instead he leaned back against the mobile command vehicle and enjoyed Steve’s display of competence porn. 

“Keep your heads up and stay safe,” Steve wrapped up his briefing and made his way to his team. His anticipatory grin was shameless. 

“Christ. Sunrise and assault rifles, this is a wet dream for you, isn’t it, babe?” Danny asked, loud enough for Lou to hear as well.

Lou groaned, which was Danny’s intent. Steve just chuckled. “I got you the good coffee, the expensive coffee. You aren’t allowed to be cranky.”

“That you did, babe.” Danny rolled his shoulders than waved toward the dock. “Shall we? I know your morning won’t be complete until you’ve opened a door with your foot.”

Five-0 and HPD stacked up and began quickly advancing down the floating dock. The wooden platforms rippled with the stampeding feet, Danny focused hard on the horizon behind their destination to steady his equilibrium. A few birds startled from their nests, but there were no other cries of alarm.

They boarded the mega-yacht from the stern. Danny, Kono, and Steve peeled off to sweep up the starboard side, while Chin and Lou took the port. Liquor bottles and debris from what had clearly been a hell of a party littered the deck. A handful of the deck loungers were occupied by passed out guests. They paused while HPD secured the confused party goers and began shepherding them back up the dock. 

Chin and Lou came across one of the deck hands, which brought their out-standing count down to five. They didn’t find anyone else on the starboard side, but the detritus was everywhere and disgusting. Danny edged past a vast puddle of vomit; trying to stay vigilant and sanitary were rapidly becoming mutually exclusive goals. Steve, with his ridiculously long legs, didn’t even break stride. Danny harbored dark thoughts of tripping him, just a little.

They crept out onto the open deck at the bow, covering Chin and Lou as they ascended to the wheelhouse. 

“Ugh.” Danny crinkled his nose. “This place is a floating STD,” he whispered.

“Brah,” Kono murmured in disgusted agreement.

Danny used his handgun to gesture toward the Jacuzzi. Kono looked where he pointed and then spun back at once. She thumped Danny on the arm. “That’s vile,” she hissed at him. “Why would you even point that out to me?”

Their whispered bickering was enough to attract Steve’s attention, who scowled quizzically at the pair. Danny jerked his chin toward the mess in the tub and then chortled as Steve looked and flinched. Steve turned back to Danny, revulsion and betrayal battling for control of his features. 

“You asked,” he mouthed silently. Behind him, Danny could hear Kono snicker softly. 

Steve rolled his eyes and waved them toward the entry to the cabins below deck. 

Refocused and eager to spend the least amount of time possible on board, the trio made quick work of the guest quarters. One additional guest was found in a cabin and turned over to HPD, who swept the unsteady young woman topside without much fuss. That just left the owner’s suite to clear on this level. The door was locked. Danny started to kneel to pick the lock, and then sighed. He straightened up, stepped clear, and made a formal bow, sweeping his hand from Steve to the door.

The destruction was worth it for the sheer delight on his partner’s face. Steve crashed through the splintering door like a typhoon. “Beauregard Liddell, this is Five-0! We have a warrant for your arrest! Hands, show me your hands!”

Liddell, who had been sound asleep between a male and a female bedmate, ended up showing everyone a lot more than just his hands.


	2. Chapter 2

It was the best kind of lazy Sunday evening in the McGarrett – Williams household. Grace had spent the morning running them both ragged on the beach before Danny returned her to Rachel’s in the afternoon.

Presently, the two of them were sprawled comfortably on the sofa recovering. Steve was engrossed in a novel about The Lusitania, bare feet propped on the coffee table. Danny draped along the rest of the couch, his head pillowed on Steve’s thigh. Theoretically, he was watching the late west coast baseball game. His eyes hadn’t opened in more than a half an hour; though Steve knew from experience that as soon as his hand touched the remote, Danny would claim to be deeply invested.

The Mariners had just gone up a run on the Dodgers – whom Danny hated, because fifty-nine years was a completely reasonable length of time to nurse a grudge – when Steve’s cellphone rang. Steve muted the game and right on cue Danny stirred. His sleep grumblings lifted into a questioning hmm when Steve greeted Ellie. Steve smoothed a hand through Danny’s hair, pushing him gently back down. Danny squinted up at him in fond amusement and let himself be settled.

“Sorry to bug you at home,” Ellie said, “but I need a favor.”

“Anything you need,” Steve answered without thought. He ignored Danny’s knowing scoff.

“You remember Beauregard Liddell, yeah?”

Steve flipped through his mental dossiers. “Hacker kid from the Ornellas case, right?”

“Yeah.” Steve heard the rustle of papers moving in the background. “We’ve finally reached a plea bargain. Part of the agreement is that he turns over his files on his previous clients. He claims that he has the information stashed up in Kahana Valley.”

“You want Five-0 to take him out there?” Steve asked, already mentally reviewing what he knew about the State Park.

“Yes. We’ve been trying to keep his plea bargain low profile while we worked out the terms of his deal. Five-0 handled the original investigation and I’d prefer not to involve anyone else.”

“When do you want us to go?”

“Sooner would be better. I’m not sure how long we can contain the information.” Ellie sounded relieved, as though there were any chance of Steve saying no.

“I’ll notify the team, we can head out at first light.”

Danny groaned loudly.

Steve chuckled and patted his shoulder.

“Thanks, Steve,” Ellie said brightly. “See you at five?”

“Sounds good. See you then.” He hung up the phone.

“You do realize,” Danny said before Steve could dial Chin, “that this makes twice now that I’ve been out of bed before sunrise because of this asshole.”

“Maybe you’ll get lucky and he’ll do something stupid tomorrow and you can shoot him a little.”

“Do not joke about that, Steven.” Danny rolled onto his back to glare up at Steve, the effect undermined by the blond halo an hour of Steve playing with his hair had wrought. “If you joke about it, the Universe will hear you and we do not need any help finding trouble.”

“You want to call Grover while I let Chin and Kono know?” Steve asked, deciding to bypass the rant Danny was warming to.

Danny sat up. Gravity didn’t help his hair any, Steve stifled a grin. “Lou’s training with SWAT tomorrow, remember?”

“Right.” Steve considered for a moment and then brightened. “The four of us can handle it. Be like the old days. Still, better let him know where we’ll be.”

“Because he won’t be able to just follow the explosions,” Danny grumbled as he got up to retrieve his phone. 

Steve called Chin and then Kono to advise them of the change to the next morning’s itinerary. That accomplished, he headed out into the garage and pulled together packs for he and Danny.

By the time he came back into the house, Danny had finished his call to Lou. The growl of the coffee grinder clued Steve in to his partner’s location and priorities. Steve dropped down onto the sofa and started making a mental checklist of everything they would need from HQ before they collected the prisoner from HPD.

After a few minutes of muffled clanging from the kitchen, Danny flopped down beside Steve and curled into him. Despite the cozy posture, he picked up the remote and turned off the television with a sigh. “Since we have to be up at zero dark thirty, guess the game’s over.”

Steve wrapped his arm around Danny. “Does that mean our game is called off too?” He only pouted a little.

Danny leaned back to look at him askance. “Honestly, how do I find you so ridiculously hot? You’re a gigantic goof. Because that, that was neither smooth nor subtle. You are lucky, my friend, that you are so very, very pretty.”

Steve grinned at him. “You protest, but I think goofs are your type.”

“Oh you think so?”

“Yes, I do.” Steve stood and hauled Danny to his feet. “And I intend to prove it.” He peeled off his shirt, arms crossing at the hem.

Danny feigned indifference, but his eager eyes tracked every inch of revealed skin. “You’re just proving that you’re pretty, babe. I already conceded that point.” He bounced lightly on his toes, a subtle shifting that betrayed his pugilistic background.

Steve stretched the tee between his hands, then rapidly twirled it into a rat-tail. He snapped the makeshift whip toward Danny who yelped, louder than was strictly called for, and darted backwards.

Steve chased him. “Admit it. You are in love with a goof. You are attracted to a goof. You are, in fact, kind of goofy for a goof.”

They dodged and danced around the living room, the coffee table and recliner between them. Danny tried and utterly failed to maintain a stoic front. The next time his path brought him near the stairs, he bolted up them.

Steve whooped and tore off after him in gleeful pursuit.


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Steve pulled the Camaro into the parking lot near the Observation Center, Danny was on a low boil. Liddell, whom Danny absolutely refused to refer to as B-Lidd like the hacker kept insisting, had possibly been custom built to get under his skin. The prisoner had been an entitled, self-important pain in the ass from the moment HPD had enthusiastically surrendered him into Steve’s custody. 

Danny yarded Liddell from the backseat and waited just long enough for Chin to climb out of Kono’s Cruze before he shoved the hacker toward his teammate. “Watch him.” He sucked in a deep breath, remembered his manners and Chin’s vicious capacity for revenge pranks. “Please,” Danny added, tacking on a smile that was mostly a grimace. 

Chin cocked an amused eyebrow at Danny, but accepted temporary guardianship without comment. Danny fled before Liddell could open his mouth and reveal Chin’s folly.

He made a bee-line for Steve who was rummaging in the trunk of the car. Steve saw Danny coming and held out a tactical vest for him to put on. Danny groaned when he saw which set Steve had grabbed. “The composites? Babe, this is gonna be a hike and a half already and those fuckers are heavy.”

Steve just held the vest extended patiently. “Look, this guy is about to rat out the LCM and god knows who else. I’m not taking any chances with anyone today.”

“He keeps chipping his teeth and he’s not going to have to worry about the LCMs. I’m pretty sure that I’m going to push him off the mountain today.” 

Steve gave Danny an indulgent smirk and shook the vest gently. “No you’re not.” Danny took the vest, because he had long ago learned that there was no out-stubborning Steve when it came to the team’s personal safety. 

“No. Really. I might.” Danny shrugged the custom fitted vest on and started tugging it into place. “I will be very sorry and most contrite when we explain it to Ellie, but I’m gonna push him off the mountain.”

“Well, now you’ve just premeditated the whole thing and you‘ve turned me into an accessory.”

“Sorry, babe.” Danny thumped the last of the straps into place. “Figure we’ve both done prison on our own and didn’t do so hot. Next time, let’s try for roomies.”

He didn’t miss Steve’s flinch, though his lover tried to suppress it. Danny ducked his head and felt like a heel. “Sorry. Not funny, I know. But seriously, I am gonna kill him. I’ll just make sure I don’t get caught.”

Steve snorted. “Well at least you’ve got a plan.” He hoisted Danny’s pack and helped him slip into the straps. His fingers lingered against the back of Danny’s neck, cutting perilously close to undoing their rules about displays of affection on the job.

“These gentlemanly manners, you’ll spoil me.”

“Get through today without killing anyone and I promise you I will spend tonight doing just that.”

Danny let fly with an authentic New Jersey taxi-summoning whistle. “Okay, campers! Let’s get this show on the road.”


	4. Chapter 4

Kahana Valley made good on the promise in tens of thousands of glossy travel brochures. The jungle was vibrant and primal with truly breath-taking views of Pu’u Ohulehule. There were even beautiful people as well, if you counted Danny’s teammates – which he did. Like everything else on the island, the valley had it in for him.

The dense foliage was hemming Danny in; he felt claustrophobic and exposed at the same time. The brilliant greens made his eyes ache for the soothing gray of dingy concrete. Saw-toothed leaves slashed at his bared forearms. He stubbornly refused to be grateful that Steve had insisted on sturdier attire than his usual dress. Scourges of mosquitoes hovered and hummed like sentient fog banks. 

By the time the little troop had slogged across the second stream, Danny was willing to reconsider his stance on the whole gratitude thing. His shoes were squelching even after he’d wrung out his socks, but the high tech pants Steve had just happened to have in Danny’s size, were drying quickly in the warm air. He felt a warm rush of fondness for his thoughtful partner. Steve may have the emotional vocabulary of a particularly bright mollusk, but the man knew a million ways to show his affection. 

Shortly after they crossed Kahana Stream, the trail split. Liddell directed them toward a faint disruption in the undergrowth that Danny would have overlooked on his own. Uhule ferns, and Danny wasn’t sure if he should blame Steve or Grace for that piece of knowledge, flanked both sides of the goat-trail in a riotous tangle that obscured their footing and raked at their clothing. The only good thing about the change in direction was that as the trail quickly gained elevation, no one – and thankfully that included Liddell – had any oxygen to spare on conversation.

They pressed on like that for the better part of an hour, until the path broke against an overgrown rock wall. Steve stopped them in the small space beneath the escarpment for water and a breather before they tackled the nearly vertical climb.

Danny tugged at his ballistics vest. Humidity was hovering right around bathwater, and the heavy vest was doing a first rate impression of an imu. 

Steve caught him fidgeting and scowled. “Leave it on,” he murmured in Danny’s ear under the guise of handing over a bottle of water. 

Danny scowled right back, but abandoned his fruitless quest for a cool breeze. He took the water and drained half the bottle in one go. 

“Why would you stash anything out here?” he asked, turning his crankiness on Liddell where it belonged. “You had to know you weren’t getting anything off this mountain in a hurry; makes for a pretty useless bolt-hole.”

“I wasn’t thinking speed, I was thinking security,” Liddell answered, his breathing already back to normal. Danny didn’t need another reason to loathe the arrogant little punk, but he’d take it anyway. “The people I do business with are more afraid of information they can’t find than they are of not catching up with you eventually.”

“That didn’t make you reconsider the people you do business with?” Kono piped up. She at least had the decency to look like she’d been exerting herself.

Liddell shrugged. “I get paid an obscene amount to travel all over the world. I’ve banged insanely hot people on four continents.” There was a leer in his voice that suggested Kono was welcome to join that tally. “Usually the danger’s pretty limited.”

Danny rolled his eyes and mentally began drafting ‘shove the asshole off the mountain’ plan version 6.2.

“Tell me again why you need the armed escort up the mountain,” Chin asked dryly.

“I said usually,” Liddell snarked back. He gave Chin a lascivious once over that matched the one he’d directed toward Kono. “I shouldn’t have taken this job though. Fuckin’ cartels, man. Zero sense of humor.” He shrugged. “They probably had a price out on me before you’d even kicked down my door. Which was not cool, b-t-dubs.”

“So what do you get out this deal,” Chin asked, his poker-face magnificent in the face of pure douchebaggery.

“Eh. I do a little bit of time under an assumed name, then I get relocated. Probably be some fucking place like Wichita or some bullshit.” He didn’t sound particularly concerned with the details. 

Danny estimated less than six months before the ass violated the terms of his witsec deal and bounced. He just hoped that the feds got everything they needed out of him before that happened.

Steve, who’d taken upon himself to explore the route up the wall, dropped heavily back into the clearing, grinning shamelessly at Danny’s startled irritation.

“Jesus, you animal,” Danny said, in what was most certainly not a yelp—he’d bloody the nose of anyone who claimed differently, Steve. “A little warning next time?”

“Sorry,” Steve said with a grin that contradicted his apology. “There’s a pretty clear path, but it gets a little vertical in spots. There are guide ropes and tree roots you can use to steady yourselves on, but I wouldn’t trust your whole weight to them.”

Danny appreciated that Steve had addressed the advice to the entire group, even though he was the only one lacking rock-climbing experience. His boyfriend wasn’t entirely a jerk.

“Danno,” Steve said, shrugging back into his pack, “you go first. I’ll be right behind you.”

He took a deep breath and glared up at the wall. Behind him he could hear Liddell start to say “Danno” in a mocking tone, only to cut off with a sharp, pained wheeze. 

“Sorry,” Kono’s sincerity highlighted the blatant lie.

Danny hid his grin against the rock wall and slowly started picking his way upward. Even with the heavy tac vest and even heavier pack, the climb wasn’t too bad. There were plenty of hand and footholds and the trail only went truly vertical in a few spots. He wasn’t graceful by any stretch of the imagination, but he didn’t embarrass himself either. 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Steve asked quietly as they stood at the top watching the other three finish their climb.

“Compared to what?” Danny asked, more for the sake of form than any real intent. 

Steve bumped Danny with his shoulder, his smile telling Danny that he’d seen through the grumpiness. Danny scowled at Steve, trying to head off any future dates that involved rock climbing before the idea took hold. 

Liddell reached the upper edge of the rimrock and Steve reached down to effortlessly yard him up by the strap at the nape of the vest. Danny was just petty enough to enjoy the way the vest lifted and strangled Liddell just a little.

Chin and Kono joined them in short order, each making the climb look effortless in the same understated confidant way they handled most things. Steve offered them each a hand up in turn while Danny kept an eye on their prisoner. Liddell was peering about, interested for the first time since HPD had foisted him onto Five-0 that morning.

“We about there?” Danny asked, rather than mentally calculate just how hard a nudge it would take to follow through on his early morning homicidal intentions. The answer, the part of his brain that he was not responsible for supplied, was ‘not very.’

“Should be,” Liddell answered and then shrugged, sliding back into his aloof indifference. “Last time I was up here a storm had flattened a lot of this. Looks totally different now.”

And thus was born murder plot mark eleven. “So,” Danny said in a slow and conversational tone that would have screamed danger to anyone that knew him, “you dragged us up here and you don’t actually know where this magic ledger is?”

“Dude, first of all, you ain’t Eliot Ness and I ain’t Al Capone. A ledger, while mad classy, wouldn’t hold a tenth of the data that I am bestowing upon the people of Hawaii.”

“Out of the goodness of your heart, of course,” Danny snarked.

Liddell ignored him. “Secondly, I know where it is. I just don’t know where it is.”

Danny’s laugh had an edge of fang to it. “For those of us who don’t speak pretentious asshole,” he said, dangerously agreeable, “would you mind telling me exactly where it is, if you don’t know exactly where it is?”

“I can find it,” Liddell said, finally catching the odor of homicide in the air. He held up his watch and pressed a button, the digital display was replaced with an old fashioned sonar display. A green dot burned brightly near the center point. “I’ve got the coordinates,” he explained. “It’s just the safe path that I’m having trouble with.”

Danny cleared his throat. “Pick carefully, if you don’t mind.”

“What’s going on?” Chin asked, saving Liddell from a brief flight and Danny from a long prison sentence.

“B-Lidd here,” Danny said, his smile getting more strained by the syllable, “left out the fact that he doesn’t remember precisely where we’re going.”

“Brah,” Chin said in a tone that translated plainly into ‘I am disappointed in your life choices.’

“As I was explaining to the detective,” Liddell at least appeared to have grasped how thin the ice he skated on was, “the trails look different now. But we’re close. Just have to find the path.”

“I recommend finding it,” Chin suggested, his mild tone scarier than Danny’s simmering rage.

Liddell blanched, and then covered the flinch with an arrogant sneer. “This way,” he said, turning them away from the faint trail they’d been following and striking out through the bush.

A hard-scrabble half mile further up the mountainside, the undergrowth thinned out to reveal a clear ridgeline with steep drop-offs on either side. The stash itself was anticlimactically easy to recover. It was a weathered metal box, bolted to a boulder in plain sight. The faded words “U of H Seismology Dept.” were barely legible. 

The four members of Five-0 tensed as Liddell worked the combo lock free, he had to worry at the shackle a bit to get it to release. There was nothing more dangerous inside than a durable looking notebook and the electronics to support it.

“How’d this work anyway,” Chin asked, curious in spite of himself.

“Simple telemetrics, dude,” Liddell answered, caressing the case fondly. “I adapted a seismology casing, but the data can flow both ways. Then it was just a matter of rigging–“

“Okay, geek squad,” Danny interrupted what appeared to be a lengthy description. “Talk about it on the way back down, yeah?”

Steve plucked the device from Liddell’s hands and scanned the remaining electronics for anything that looked significant. “Danny’s right. There’re still people out there who’ll kill for this, let’s not make it easy on them.” He ignored Liddell’s squawk of outrage and tucked the hard drive into Danny’s pack then turned to start back down the trail.

Later, when Danny had time to remember, time to think, and time to fall the fuck apart; he would remember the fucked up order of it all the clearest. He would shake with the force of the memory. In the moment, there was only time for oh holy fuck.

One second Steve was standing next to Liddell at the edge of the ridge, plotting their descent; the next second the pair of them disappeared over the edge. The terrible second after that, the fractured echo of a rifle report reached Danny’s ears.

Kono reacted first. She was closest to the spot where the other two had vanished. With an utter lack of regard for her own safety, she threw herself after them.

Danny’s brain stuttered on the empty space where Steve had stood only a second before. Chin crashed into him like a linebacker, lifting Danny from his feet and carrying them both to the ground.

“Kono? Kono?” Chin yelled, recovering first.

“We’re okay,” she hollered back after a breathless moment. “Do you have eyes on the shooter?”

“No,” Chin answered, “no twenty.” He lifted his head briefly to look around.

Danny, having had his fill of heroically self-sacrificing teammates, yanked him back down. “Sniper,” he hissed as though Chin might have forgotten.

“Can you two get off the ridge?” Steve called, his voice strained in a way that sent Danny’s radar pinging; still, the sound of Steve whole enough to yell sent relief pounding through him. He laughed, a high, adrenaline-soaked sound. If the option was lying in the open waiting to get picked off, or a slow crawl on his belly through the ferns… Well, after the divorce and five years of partnering with Steve, Danny’s dignity was more theoretical than actual anyway.

“You okay?” Chin asked quietly, unnerved by Danny’s laughter.

“Yeah.” Danny pulled himself together. “Let’s get off this fucking mountain.”

The fifteen or so feet along the clearing were the longest of Danny’s life. He hugged the ground and crept after Chin, ignoring the burning itch between his shoulder blades. Kono had reappeared among the ohia trees that edged the ridge. She covered their progress with her MK 18, but without a fix on the sniper she mostly provided moral support. Danny tried to not obsess over Steve’s absence on the tree-line.

A lifetime later, Kono was helping them both up into a low crouch in the sheltering vegetation. 

“How’s Steve?” Danny asked straight off.

“He’ll live,” Kono said, like she expected Danny to be satisfied with that answer. 

“Kalakaua,” Danny said, sternly, “there’s a lot of room for not fine in ‘he’ll live’.”

“Liddell was hit in the bicep,” she said, guiding them down slope. “The bullet went through his arm and hit Steve in the ribs. The vest stopped it, but they both took a pretty good tumble.”

“Oh thank fuck his paranoid ass brought the composites.” Danny sighed, feeling his knees go weak. He mentally promised himself that he wouldn’t question Steve’s orders for at least a week… five days for sure.

They picked their way through the overgrown underbrush, following the trail of destruction until they came to where Steve and Liddell had come to rest. Both men were upright, Steve was in the process of tightening a bandage around Liddell’s bloodied arm.

Danny didn’t give a fuck about their rules on PDA. He crossed the remaining space and had both hands cradling Steve’s face, scanning his lover for damage before he consciously decided to move. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Steve’s voice was gentle. 

Danny snorted. “You asshole,” he whispered. “Who told you, you could get shot?”

Steve pressed a kiss into his hair. “Just a little shot, I promise. Didn’t even break the skin.”

“Yeah?” Danny ignored how shaky his words came out. “I’ll believe that when I’ve checked for myself.”

“’s no time for that,” Steve argued. “Shooter’s probably already on the move. You three need to get Liddell off the mountain. I’ll cover your retreat.”

“Okay, see, now I know that you hit your head on the way down,” Danny countered. He pulled away from Steve to glare at him; his promise of obedience from minutes before shattered in the face of sheer stupidity. He didn’t miss Steve’s wince as he tried to draw himself up to his full height. “Chin and Kono can get him off the mountain, but I’m staying with you.”

“You don’t have the kind of training that I do,” Steve countered, dug in and reasonable in a way that usually made Danny want to take a poke at him.

“I also don’t have the broken ribs you probably have,” Danny hissed back, trying to keep the fight at a whisper.

“Danny,” Steve clenched his fists, “would you just for once, just do what I tell you?”

Danny scoffed. “Why would I start now when you’ve decided to be extra suicidal?”

“I – I don’t have time to argue with you,” Steve said. He made a valiant effort to hide the fact that he was favoring his right side. “We have to move.”

Danny crossed his arms and rocked back on his heels. “Fine. Don’t argue with me. Chin, Kono, you get this asshole off the mountain. Steve and I will keep them off your back.”

Steve opened his mouth. Danny waggled a finger under his nose. “Bup-bup-bup. No time to argue means no time to argue. This is how we’re doing it. I’m not leaving you up here to nobly sacrifice yourself for this scumbag.”

“I am right here!” Liddell protested.

“Shut up!” Danny speared a finger in his direction. “You’re just lucky we aren’t letting them finish the job.”

“Uh guys?” Kono hissed urgently. “We need to move.”

Danny jerked his head in acknowledgement. He stared steadily at Steve, mildly amused that the uneven ground negated Steve’s usual height advantage. “What do you say, babe? Ready to be reasonable?”

“Are you?” Steve shot back, though the retort lacked his normal spark. 

Danny’s eyes narrowed. He could read the pain Steve was trying to conceal in the lines around his eyes and the thin-lipped way he held his jaw. “I was born reasonable. Now, can you handle your pack, or do we need to ditch it?”

“I got it,” Steve sulked. He scowled at the pack lying on its side near his feet. He made no move to pick it up.

“Yeah you do,” Danny agreed, softening now that Steve had seen reason. He hoisted the pack for Steve and helped him shrug the straps over his shoulders. He used the opportunity to reassure himself that Steve wasn’t hiding a catastrophic injury.

“We do need to get some distance,” Steve said, panting slightly, but back in charge – so long as he didn’t try to send Danny off again. He adjusted the backpack carefully. “We stick together to the bottom of the bluff, and then split up. Chin, call Grover before we drop too far into the valley.”

Their descent back to the rock wall where they had rested earlier was more of a controlled tumble than a hike. They moved as quickly as Steve and Liddell were able, but it was rough going. Steve bore the pain stoically, while Liddell seemed determined that the entire valley knew exactly how much each little jolt and bump hurt his arm.

Danny’s skin buzzed with concern, and he had to force himself to watch the jungle rather than Steve. But that didn’t stop him from cataloging every wince, misstep, or labored breath. If it weren’t for the ever-present itch of a bull’s-eye between his shoulder blades, he would have—gently—tackled Steve and pinned him to the ground for a better triage than ‘it’s okay.’

A particularly sharp whimper from Liddell broke the concentrated quiet. Danny pivoted on his heel, ready to explain the need for silence in terms that Liddell would absorb. Failing that, Danny figured murder was still on the table. 

Kono beat him to the punch, almost literally. Three angry strides closed the gap between her position guarding their six and Liddell. Her MK 18 dropped to dangle from its sling. She grabbed him, hand digging in just below the bandage Steve had affixed to his wounded bicep. He spun around to face her and Kono’s other hand slapped hard over his mouth to muffle the surprised squawk of pain. Kono leaned in for a hushed, blistering scolding.

“Hey, you wanna get shot again? See if their aim improves, yeah?” she seethed. “With the noise you’re making, a blind man could hit you. Now we will get you out of here, but you gotta do your part. You shut up. You keep up. Understand?”

Liddell nodded; eyes big as saucers.

“I’m gonna let you go now. But I hear any more of that nonsense and we’ll leave you here to take your chances.” As quick as that, she spun him back around and shoved him forward. Liddell stumbled a step, but regained his footing. He kept walking, risking a darting glance back toward Kono.

God, Danny loved his team. He shot a smirk at Steve; the dread in his chest eased by Kono’s, frankly sexy, display. Steve managed a flicker of a grin in response, but it was a wane expression. Danny’s dread-o-meter topped back up to full and he immediately began drafting plans to convince Steve to continue on down the trail with Chin, while Danny and Kono stayed back to protect their retreat.

Steve seemed to pluck that train of thought straight from Danny’s mind. He straightened up and managed a proper smile. “I’m fine, D,” he murmured. “Just a couple cracked ribs. I’ve had them before. They suck, but I’m fine.”

“Yeah,” Danny whispered back. “It’s the general pallor of two-day-old fish belly that really sells the hale and hearty routine.” He let the subject drop, mostly because he couldn’t think of an argument that would convince Steve, short of cold-cocking him and letting the others cart him down the mountain in a travois that they simply didn’t have time to build. 

The short cliff they had scaled on the way up would have been a challenge at full strength. With two of their number nursing injuries it was a lot trickier. Chin descended first and waited at the bottom as they used the rope from Steve’s pack as a belay line to ease first Steve and then Liddell past the trickier points. Danny elected not to comment on Steve’s easy agreement to the arrangement and just be grateful for the concession. Once those two were on stable ground, Kono and Danny picked their own way down with as much haste as they dared. Danny was so wrung out from the rest of the morning that he couldn’t work up any nerves for the climb down. 

“See you soon, brother,” Chin said, hanging up the phone just as Danny reached what passed for level ground.

“Grover?” Danny asked. He flicked an assessing glance over Steve. His face was pale and pinched with pain, and Danny could see how hard he worked at not panting.

“Yeah,” Chin confirmed, dryly. “For some odd reason, SWAT just happened to have a helo on standby. Should be forty minutes to the valley.”

Danny chuckled. “I love that paranoid bastard. You tell him that I said that and I’ll disown you.”

Steve, eternal optimist that he was, frowned at both of them. “They were using it in the training exercise,” he insisted.

“Of course they were, babe,” Danny said, patting Steve’s cheek condescendingly.

Kono dropped lithely to the ground next to Chin. “Back-up?” She asked, checking over her gear efficiently.

“Helo should be in the area in forty or so. Fire and rescue should be right behind them,” Chin told her.

“Good.” She jerked her head to the side, signaling the other three to move further from where Liddell slumped sullenly against a boulder and gave every impression of ignoring them. 

“What’s up?” Danny asked once they’d relocated.

With a thoughtful frown, Kono said, “The shot came from up slope, right?”

“That’s logical for a sniper,” Steve said. “Even a poor one.”

“That means they didn’t follow us up. We didn’t see anyone on the trail. They already had their nest picked out before we were anywhere close to that clearing.”

“Obviously, we’ve got a leak,” Danny said, not seeing Kono’s point. “I think the bullet in Steve’s vest spelled that out pretty clearly.”

“But who? Liddell would only tell the DA’s office that it was in the Kahana Valley. If he’d described the location, he could have stayed safe and cozy in his cell. Only reason he’s here is because no one else knew where the box was.”

“He didn’t even have to describe it,” Chin said. “He’s got a beacon tied to his watch. He could have turned that over and it would have led someone straight to it.”

Kono nodded. “Exactly. Someone knew to set up on that clearing. I think the sniper was a surprise, but Liddell’s out here because he wanted to be.”

“He expected an extraction, not an execution,” Steve said, warming to Kono’s theory. “Which means someone sold him out.”

“So,” Danny asked, “what are the odds that we aren’t currently being herded toward an ambush?” Three identical expressions answered his, mostly rhetorical, question. “Fantastic. What do you want to do, babe?” He asked Steve. “Stick to the plan? Take our chances off trail? Sit tight and wait for the cavalry?”

“If we were lower, I’d say take our chances off trail, but with this incline… We can’t stay here. They’ll trap us between them. They have the high ground, and I assume the numbers.” Steve studied the rain forest around them. “I think our best option is to go after the sniper. That opens a line of retreat; we can follow the ridge trail across to Ohulehule.” He fumbled with the chest strap of his pack. “Chin, I’m gonna need help back up the wall. The rest of you will hold here until I-“

“No way,” Danny’s voice came out sharper than he intended. He winced and continued in a hushed tone, “No.”

“Danny,” Steve started. 

Danny steamrolled over the top of him, words firm despite their quiet volume. “I’m sorry. Did you magically regenerate? Are you Wolverine and I missed it?”

“Danno-“

“Do not call me that when you’re being this stupid. You are barely standing right now.”

“I’m okay.”

“Bull. Shit. You get that lovely shade of purple on your lips eating shaved ice? I know you’ve got more than a couple of cracked ribs. Give me some credit, Steven. I’ve seen a pneumothorax before.”

“Doesn’t matter –“

“I could go,” Kono volunteered. “The MK’s not my long gun, but I figure if he’s on the move, he tore his set up down. That should make us pretty even, could even give me the edge.”

“Kono,” Steve started. Danny could hear him gearing up for a protest. He could also hear the soft gasping that was passing for breath.

“It’s all good, brah,” Kono said, shucking her pack. She rummaged through it, tucking extra ammo clips into her vest.

“I’ll go with you,” Danny offered. He didn’t like the idea of anyone on out on their own, and he trusted Chin to watch over Steve. And Liddell, he added as an afterthought.

Kono gave him a bright smile and shook her head no. “No offence, Danny, but woodcraft’s not exactly your thing.”

He couldn’t argue with that.

“I’ll go,” Chin said. “You two,” Chin graciously included Steve in his count, “protect the prisoner and watch our backs.”

They didn’t waste time with long send offs, the brief conference had burned too many precious minutes. The cousins departed with quiet admonishments to come back in one piece. 

“She gets the crazy from your side of the family,” Danny informed Steve as he turned his attention to their own situation.

Steve quirked a small smile at him. Danny could see him wavering on his feet. “Come on, let’s get that pack off you.”

Steve ignored him in favor of watching Chin and Kono climb. “Wall’s a good natural fortification. If you helped me climb…”

Danny eased the straps off Steve’s shoulders and pulled the backpack away. “Steven, sit down.”


	5. Chapter 5

The ascent was easier without a thirty pound pack dragging her down. Kono made the climb quickly, pausing just below the edge of the incline. She was tired from the morning’s hike and afternoon’s scramble; but the thrumming anticipation of what she was about to undertake filled her with a thin buzz. 

It didn’t occur to Kono to be nervous. Five-0 had and would face worse. Her ohana waited down below, and she would see them safely off this mountain. 

She readied her slung rifle. If the sniper had caught up to them and intuited their next move, this was the ideal spot for a kill shot. Chin wrapped a hand around her ankle and squeezed it once, letting her know he was in position and ready as well.

Vegetation provided Kono a measure of cover, though it also obscured her own field of vision. Kono scanned the forest as best she could; straining to catch any disruption to shade patterns or motion. The air was still, but not unnaturally so; it didn’t have the taste of danger to it, no more than the rest of the day had. She coiled, took a deep breath, released it, inhaled again, and burst over the edge in an efficient explosion of motion. She hit the easier slope of the trail and did a quick fade into the bordering trees.

The narrow trail was a funnel. Moving though the underbrush would make unavoidable noise, but staying on the path was a death sentence. She forced her breath to steady and slow. Kono drew on every scrap of woodcraft her mother had imparted and concentrated on belonging rather than hiding.

She ghosted along the verge, as silently as she was able. Nothing stirred.

Kono scouted ahead, keeping a wary eye on vantage points that afforded an open shot at the path. Long minutes stretched into lifetimes before she finally gave a low whistle. Chin breached the cliff more cautiously than Kono had.

“Anything?” he asked, barely louder than a breath once he caught up to her. 

She shook her head, still focused on feeling the forest around them. There were birds calling, but not in alarm. The cousins moved in a carefully paced relay, Kono scouting and then waiting for Chin to catch up. It made for slow progress, but she was taking no chances.

They were re-approaching the clifftop where Steve had been shot, when a whisper of gray-tailed tattlers took off from the trees just beyond the far side of the clearing. Kono froze, heart pounding. With one hand, she signaled for Chin to get down. She exhaled, sending deliberate calm throughout her body.

The clearing was a choke point. To follow their trail, someone would have to cross the open ridge, or risk the steep, unstable slopes to either side. Murmurs of movement, so faint as to be more suggestion than sound reached her straining ears. Kono settled in, sighting her shot for midway between the two sides of the clearing. Unconsciously, her breathing fell into the smooth steady rhythm Steve had taught her.

She waited.


	6. Chapter 6

Danny’s progress through the underbrush was terrifyingly easy to follow. Steve ached to abandon his vantage point and assume the scouting mission himself. His last attempt to stand, however, had sent slicing pain carving through his side and robbed Steve of what little breath he had left. Logically, he knew that in his current condition he would be no stealthier than the inexperienced Danny; but sitting back and waiting still galled him something fierce. In compensation and distraction, he immediately began drafting plans to beat some basic forest tactics into his team by rote; and by team, he meant Danny. 

Steve slumped against the tree at his back and resumed scanning for anything crashing through the forest that wasn’t Danny. A few minutes later, moving with a painstaking stealth that screamed his location, Danny appeared at Steve’s side. He knelt in the duff, frowning at Steve in ill-concealed concern. 

“Anything?” Steve asked, proving to both of them that he had breath enough for words.

Danny nodded. He reached out to curl his fingers against the shoulder strap of Steve’s vest, thumb running soothing patterns against Steve’s chest beneath the material. Steve didn’t think he was even aware of doing it. “They’re not far. I saw three, and I’m pretty sure there’s more than that. Maybe six?”

“Get a look at their firepower?”

“No.” Danny’s head was on a swivel; he tried to simultaneously watch for threats from downslope, scrutinize Steve, and steal glances up the trail where they’d parted ways with Chin and Kono.

“They’ll be okay, D,” Steve offered, reading his concern plainly.

Danny’s attention snapped back to Steve and he huffed. “Of course they’ll be okay. Think some little walk in the park is gonna… Let me check your ribs.” He changed the subject abruptly.

“Priorities, Danny.”

“Pri— priorities?” Danny’s mouth twisted around the word as though it tasted sour. “I’m sorry, for most people breathing is the priority.”

Steve was impressed, not for the first time, at Danny’s ability to maintain a full rant while whispering. He quirked as much of a smile as he could manage and said, “I’m worried about everyone breathing, Danny. I’ll be okay. The pain is localized on my right side. It’s not great, but it’ll be okay. Left side isn’t impacted yet.” The speech left him winded, but he did his best to smooth out the ragged gasping.

“Yet? Yet. So you admit-“

“I’m not planning on taking any more bullets today, so let’s focus on getting out of this and then we’ll work on the rest.”

“There’s got to be something I can do. You have to know some crazy SEAL jungle triage thing…”

“It’s not like the movies, Danny. It’s not necessary and we don’t have time. I would tell you.”

Danny let out an explosive sigh. “Oh thank god. I don’t think I could handle poking a hole in your chest.”

“I appreciate the thought, buddy. Now get yourself into position. And don’t get shot.”

“Feh. Look who’s talking.”

With a comforting squeeze to the back of Steve’s neck, Danny rose into a low crouch. He scanned the surrounding terrain intently for a long beat and then left. Though Danny managed a passable fade into the underbrush, Steve remained keenly aware of his movements even after he reached his makeshift blind and had settled in to wait.

Steve settled into the familiar low-key state of alertness that had reliably eaten up the hours on stakeouts before he’d had Danny to fill the time. The almost meditative state pushed aside the pain in his chest and the worry for his ohana; leaving only awareness of the forest around him.

Minutes crawled by unheeded. Until at last, the gentle susurration of motion through the foliage teased at the edge of Steve’s hearing, bringing him fully alert and ready, if not entirely able.

A cracking shot from upslope had the same effect as a starter’s pistol.


	7. Chapter 7

The afternoon had gone hot and still. Kono didn’t know if the heaviness of the air was atmospheric or anticipation, but she sweltered and near suffocated beneath its thick weight. Her focus was dialed down to a narrow strip of rock and foliage; Chin’s comforting presence let her tune out the rest of the landscape. The low angle was terrible, but she had no way of climbing higher than her opponent without exposing herself. That was assuming she had guessed their position correctly in the first place. 

Kono was on the verge of abandoning her plan, when subtle motion stirred at the high edge of the open ridge. The movement stilled unnaturally and then a stocky figure in camos seemed to bleed from the trees. Kono painted him with her scope, tracing a delicate leading edge on the shot. 

He moved with a furtive grace, crossing the gap with a fluid easiness that wouldn’t draw the eye of anyone not looking for him. Kono settled into her shot and began to draw the slack from the trigger when she noted that the barrel over his shoulder was a spotting scope, not a rifle. Between one heartbeat and the next, Kono eased off the trigger. The spotter reached the trees on the near side of the clearing and vanished.

Kono waited.

She waited until doubt crept in and nibbled at her nerves. Her sights held steady on that far tree line, but her mind raced along probabilities. Had she missed her best shot and let a killer draw nearer to her family? Uncertainty coiled in her muscles and urged her to move and hunt down the known threat. Kono tamped down hard on the impulse and stuck to her plan.

Finally, a shape separated from the trees and began slinking across the clearing. The dark haired man wore camos like his companion; the obvious shape of a long gun was slung over one shoulder. 

Kono exhaled. Inhaled. Breaths so smooth they were glass. The oxygen fed her muscles, easing the tension from them into a warm readiness. She pulled her sights ahead of his stride, to the center of the clearing and eased the slack from her trigger. He reached her chosen point as her lungs hit the natural rest in the breathing cycle. Kono smoothly squeezed the trigger.

The man crumpled to the ground without any fuss.

A flutter of motion drew Kono’s aim to where she’d last seen the spotter. He took a half step into the open, then remembered himself and dove back into the trees. Kono snapped a shot after him, but it lacked the finesse of her previous efforts. Still, the shooter was down, one less threat at their backs.

Kono coiled and prepared to move.


	8. Chapter 8

One of the mercenaries burst from the underbrush, almost on top of Steve’s hiding spot. Danny knew damned well that the man would have never gotten that close if Steve were operating at even half capacity. Two long strides pulled him into the no-man’s land between Danny and Steve where cross-fire was deadly; another two strides and he would be behind them, dividing their attention between the force still below and their unprotected backs. 

Danny dropped his slung rifle and charged. He hit the mercenary like a defensive end with a clear shot at the quarterback. The collision lifted both men from their feet and they slammed down hard amid the clawing branches of the uhule ferns. 

Danny landed on top and recovered first. He let fly with every cheap shot and underhanded trick in his considerable repertoire. The ferocity of his attack bought him a few precious seconds before the body beneath him twisted like a wet cat. 

A flailing elbow clipped Danny’s jaw hard enough to snap his head to the side and set his vision blurring. He bounced back at once with a blistering punch aimed at the unprotected column of his opponent’s throat. At the last second, the man bucked beneath Danny, absorbing the punch with his clavicle rather than trachea.

A buzz like a hornet’s battle cry burned passed Danny’s cheek. A bullet, his brain helpfully supplied. He couldn’t help the instinctive flinch away. The inattention cost him dearly. Long legs twined around his torso and wrenched him over backward. The back of Danny’s head smacked into hard ground that was more rock than soil. 

The world grayed out.

From a great distance, Danny heard his own name wrapped in Steve’s fear and the crackle of his lover trading gunfire with the mercenaries. An immense weight settled on Danny’s chest, pushing him further into stunned lethargy. He batted at the man looming over him, hand knocked effortlessly aside. Fingers like bands of iron closed against Danny’s throat. He blinked up into a red-smeared sham of a smile. 

Blood roared in Danny’s ears, impossibly loud. He twisted and writhed, but could gain no traction against his assailant’s crushing weight. Thunder boomed, so close he could taste the acrid tang of atmospheric violence.

The weight on top of him abruptly went limp and collapsed. Danny was pinned, crushed beneath dead weight; but the bruising force at his throat was gone. He turned his head to the side and gulped air. Something warm and viscous slid through his hair and down his neck.

The heap crushing his chest gave an odd shudder and started to shift.

Steve was crouched in the underbrush next to Danny, tugging at the corpse. It slumped to one side, ruined head lolling against Danny’s neck. 

“Danny,” Steve hissed urgently, slapping at Danny to rouse him. His attention flickered rapidly between Danny and the mountainside below them. “Danny.”

Suddenly aware that he was cuddling a corpse, Danny bucked and wriggled; gracelessly working his way free. He shoved the body away and sprawled on the ground panting. A hysterical giggle scalded the back of his throat. 

Steve scowled at him, concerned. “We gotta go, man.”

He was drunk on oxygen.

“Danny,” Steve was insistent, prodding Danny’s shoulder with sharp urgent jabs. It hurt. “I can’t carry you. You have to get up. We have to move.”

The uncharacteristic panic in Steve’s voice cleared away the fog. He rolled onto all fours and hung his head. Steve didn’t give him time for dizziness. Move. Right, they had to move. That wasn’t popcorn he was hearing, there were still people shooting. “I’m good, I’m good,” he promised.

Danny lurched the rest of the way upright, punch-drunk and staggering. The victory over gravity made him cocky enough to press his luck and yard Steve more-or-less upright by one arm. Steve’s breath hitched and what pitiful color remained in his face drained away. 

The altercation had cut the distance between them and the gunmen uncomfortably. Steve snapped several shots in the foliage. Danny tucked himself under Steve’s arm and said, “Come on, we gotta move.”

Steve let Danny pull him along, supporting his weight, while he lay down suppressive fire. “Why didn’t I think of that,” Steve gasped as they plowed through the underbrush.

It was not an elegant or orderly retreat. Despite being out of it enough to let Danny half drag him, Steve’s aim was good enough to keep their pursuers at bay.


	9. Chapter 9

By the time they reached the small space where they’d left Liddell flex-cuffed to a tree, Steve’s cover fire had fallen silent and Danny was keeping them moving through sheer bullheadedness. 

Steve’s yelp as Danny eased him down to lean against their piled backpacks was a pitiful wheeze that froze the detective’s blood in his veins. He crashed to his knees beside Steve — hands hovering in helpless patterns in the air over Steve’s battered torso. The lush mouth that Danny had memorized with kisses was slack; lips parted in a shallow pant that brought no color to Steve’s pale face.

“Damnit, Steven,” Danny swore, more for the familiarity of it than anything else. “Lou is on his way, so you just be the stubborn pain in my ass that I know and love. You copy?” Danny was in danger of hyperventilating himself; voice high and pinched with panic.

Steve managed a nod and reached up to give Danny’s wrist a comforting squeeze. The movement looked as though it cost him, but Danny was pathetically grateful for the centering touch. He twisted his wrist to catch Steve’s forearm in a brief, echoing grasp, then lowered Steve’s hand gently.

“You keep breathing,” he ordered, voice low and thick. He let his hand drift up, cradling Steve’s cheek as the SEAL’s eyes drifted shut. The warm puff of breath against his palm was the most important thing on the mountain in that moment.

Calmer than he’d been in what felt like eons, Danny nodded decisively to himself and took in the rest of their situation. The trail below looked empty, but Danny’s skin prickled beneath the sights he knew were scanning the jungle foliage looking for them. It wasn’t even a question of when; they were out of time, out of space to fall back — hell, they were out of air. 

Danny flicked his glance away from the slope to where Liddell sat stiffly against the tree, arms pulled back and held out of sight by flex-cuffs. The hacker lowered his chin and glowered furiously over the wide strip of silver tape that covered his mouth. 

Steve was as safe as Danny could make him, which admittedly wasn’t very; but Liddell was a sitting duck tied to the tree like that. Deserved or not, Danny still had a responsibility to see the prisoner safely off the mountain. He quickly crossed to Liddell, pulling out his pocket knife.

Danny crouched in front of Liddell and pulled the tape away without much regard for the skin underneath. While Liddell sputtered and swore, Danny hissed at him, low and urgent, “Okay, listen you asshole. I’m gonna cut you free, but you need to stay put. We will get you off this mountain and then you will fulfill your end of the deal and tell the prosecutor anything she wants to know instead of trying to weasel out of it like a little punk. Understand me?”

He leaned around Liddell to cut the flex-cuffs, only for Liddell to bring his opposite hand around in a blisteringly fast arc. Danny flinched back, dropping his knife in an instinctive move for his gun; the sharp heat of a blade at his throat arrested his movement. 

“Hands up,” Liddell ordered, eyes a little wild as the two glared at each other across the ugly curved blade of the machete that Danny had last seen strapped to Steve’s pack. His wrists were raw and bleeding sluggishly from his exertions to free himself. “Up. Get them up,” he repeated, applying more pressure for emphasis. 

Danny raised his hands slowly, kicking himself for his inattention. His rifle hung uselessly from its sling across his chest, Liddell had plenty of time to cut Danny’s throat before he could get the barrel even half turned. Same story with the sidearm on his hip. “Are you kidding me with this? Put that down,” he snapped, like he was scolding a child.

“No. I am not going to fucking Wichita!” 

“What’s your big plan here? There are two ways off this mountain, up and down. And if I might point out, in both of those directions are people who have been paid rather a lot of money to kill you. People who are only here because you told them where to find us.” Danny’s hands jerked with the barely stifled need to drive his point home with emphatic gestures. Or a punch, yeah, a punch would work.

“No. No. No,” Liddell said, voice rising with each repetition. He shook his head stubbornly, the motion scraping the blade across Danny’s throat.

Danny rocked back and held his breath.

“There’s three ways,” Liddell insisted. “I heard cheekbones order a helo for your friend over there.” He jerked his head toward Steve. “They can’t land a helicopter here, so they must be dropping one of those baskets. You and I are going to get in and they’re going to fly us somewhere safe and—“

Danny had the distinct impression that Liddell was figuring out his plan on the fly. “And what? You’re an idiot if you think I’ll let you go anywhere before he gets help.” 

Liddell groaned in frustration. He leaned forward, reaching for the gun on Danny’s belt. Instinctively, Danny turned his hip away, putting his body between the weapon and the other man. He winced as the blade pressed harder against his throat, a sharp pressure that made his eyes well.

“Give me your gun.”

“Not happening.”

“Give me your gun, or I cut your throat and I use your buddy as a shield.”

“You are really bad at this.”

“What?” Liddell snapped, affronted. “You’re not supposed to argue with me.”

“Look, my buddy—thanks to your friends—is non-ambulatory at this point; so—terrible human shield. At best he’s a lump of dead weight, okay, so just leave him out of this. Secondly, did you miss the part where there are people in these woods, other than me, who would like to see you dead.”

As if on cue, gunfire peppered the foliage around them. Liddell flinched, flicking the blade upward as his hands snapped up instinctively to cover his head. 

The fiery sting beneath his chin was irrelevant. As soon as the machete was away from his throat, Danny tackled Liddell, shoving the hacker facedown into the duff, his weight settling hard over the idiot. “Stay down,” he hissed, scrambling to free the rifle pinned between them.

The mercenaries were too close for Danny to rise up and get any sort of bead on their movements. He could lay enough cover-fire to keep them from making the final push up the hillside, but it was a doomed strategy in the long run.

He tried to walk the line of holding them at bay and conserving his remaining bullets. It was a delicate balance that the other side had no interest in reciprocating. “What kind of low-rent spray and pray bullshit is this? Did you cheap out in hiring your own hit squad?”

“The sniper was expensive,” Liddell whined.

Danny spared him a disgusted look. “You have got to be kidding me with this shit.”

The only thing protecting them was the slope of the mountain. With everyone pressed to the ground, the gunmen couldn’t get a clear angle on them; but neither could Danny move to get a better vantage point. 

The click of an empty magazine was a kick to the gut. He scrabbled at the keeper on his vest for a new clip, but he knew that he wasn’t going to be fast enough. His hands didn’t shake, because there wasn’t time; but his heart did—breaking with the thought of Steve, helpless and suffocating only yards away; of Grace and Charlie growing up without him.

Somehow he managed to slam the fresh magazine into place. He’d lost count of how many were left—it didn’t matter, Danny knew this one would be the last. The gunfire overhead had gotten louder, or maybe that was the hammering of his heart.

Danny gulped for oxygen and forced himself to actually listen. Though the shooting continued, the foliage overhead no longer hummed with lead. Just as Danny realized that, the sweet thumpa-thumpa-thumpa-thumpa-thumpa-thumpa of a hovering helicopter registered.

Danny’s bones went liquid with relief. Beneath him, Liddell seemed to also sense their change in fortune; the hacker shifted, attempting to look around. Danny shoved him back down with a growled, “Keep your head down, idiot.”

He still couldn’t see anything, but the spats of gunfire were definitely decreasing in volume and intensity. It was somehow worse, laying there in the dirt, sweat prickling his skin, knowing there were so close to safe and still being utterly unable to reach Steve.

The helicopter shifted to a position behind Danny and steadied—followed immediately by the sound of officers rappelling down through the foliage to land upslope.

A man called out “coming up on your six.”

Danny craned his neck to watch a helmeted SWAT officer practically dance down the rocky outcropping like an avenging billy goat. He bounded past Danny and posted up; waving for his fellows to make their equally graceful descents. 

Suddenly Kono was at his side. She pulled Liddell from under Danny and cuffed the hacker with ruthless efficiency. She grinned up at Danny; a deep bruise staining her elegant cheek, but her dark eyes sparked with victory. 

Her expression darkened almost immediately. “Shit, Danny! Are you hit?”

“What?” Danny asked, not tracking her question.

“You’re bleeding,” she told him, shoving him on to his back and pawing at the side of his head without waiting for a response.

“That’s not mine,” he told her, wincing as her gloved hands tugged on strands of hair matted with tacky blood.

“None of it?” she asked, making a gesture that seemed to encompass his entire chest.

Danny looked down, confused.

What he had taken for prickling sweat was fresh blood that saturated the pale blue of his dress shirt and glistened wetly against the black tac vest.

“Where are you hit? Danny?” Kono’s voice rose with sharp command. “Brah, focus.”

Danny winced as she lifted his chin, fingers inadvertently pressing against the long laceration. The wound throbbed hotly. Danny pulled away, batting at her hand. “I’m fine. I’m okay. I’ve done worse shaving.”

“Only if you’re really bad at shaving,” she scoffed. 

“I’m fine,” he repeated stubbornly. “Steve—“

“Chin and the SWAT medic have Steve,” Kono cut him off; shifting so Danny could see the pair crouched over his partner. “You go over there looking like a massacre and you’ll just distract them.” She rummaged in her pack for the compact first aid kit they each carried. 

Danny started to sit up once more, but Kono pushed him back down with a firm hand in the middle of his chest. 

“Five minutes, then you can go yell at the boss.” She swiped at his throat with an antiseptic pad. 

Recognizing a losing fight when he saw one, Danny resigned himself to her tender mercies.


	10. Chapter 10

Chin watched the small gauge with an intense focus that made his eyes burn. Each time the indicator illuminated with green light, he gave the soft plastic bag a careful squeeze and flicked his gaze to Steve’s newly bared chest, eagerly watching for the corresponding rise. One slow second, then it was back to watching for the light.

Light.

Squeeze.

Rising chest.

Adjust fingers stretched around the clear mask and over the firm line of Steve’s jawbone.

It was a cycle that Chin embraced—better to focus on the steady supply of air he circulated into Steve’s lungs, than it was to watch the SWAT medic’s efficient preparations. 

The needle was a large, ugly thing— with a snubbed body and a tip so long that Chin half expected it to pass clear through Steve’s chest. He couldn’t help but stare.

“Squeeze,” the medic – Rhee his uniform read in subdued embroidery – prompted with calm authority.

Chin caught himself and buried the impulse to rush to make up for the broken rhythm. His fingers curled gentle and slow. Steve’s chest rose, the left side lifting while the right side remained still beneath the medic’s touch. 

“Steve,” Rhee said as he set aside the antiseptic and picked up the needle. He traced a line down from Steve’s collarbone, probing his chosen site with care. “We’re going to relieve some of that pressure for you now. This should make breathing a little more comfortable.”

If Steve heard him, Chin couldn’t detect a response.

Rhee lined the needle up and pressed downward with a confident movement. Chin couldn’t help but watch in fascinated revulsion. 

There was a rush of air followed by a gory geyser of dark blood that spurted from the hollow tube, spattering across Steve’s bare chest. Immediately, Steve’s breathing steadied and slowed. His eyes flickered open and Chin grinned down at him. 

“That’s it. Alright, good job,” Rhee soothed. “Steve, you with me, buddy?” To Chin he added, “Keep squeezing. He still needs the support.”

Steve blinked—the movement slow and unfocused. Beneath the mask his lips parted in an unformed question. 

“We’re all good, Steve,” Chin assured him. “Lou has the scene and Kono’s looking after Danny, but we’re all good.” He flicked a glance over to where he’d last seen the rest of the team; he was surprised to discover them standing nearby, Kono’s arms wrapped around Danny, their heads pressed together as they silently watched the medic work on Steve.

A light hand settled on Chin’s shoulder. “Lieutenant Kelly,” a vaguely familiar woman said, giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze. Her brightly colored flight suit was a vivid contrast to the subdued tactical wear of everyone else on the hillside. “We’ve got the commander. We’ll take good care of him.”

She slid her hand over his on the mask and carefully took the bag from him. With very little fuss, Chin found himself shifted out of the way. Her partner, in an identical flight suit and harness was already getting a rapid debrief from Rhee.

Chin looked around for somewhere to be useful, but SWAT had everything in hand. He drifted to where his teammates stood watching; stopping at Danny’s shoulder to bookend the blond detective. He wrapped an arm around Danny’s shoulder, pulling him into an embrace- careful of the bandage that curled up over his jawline. 

“He’s good, yeah?” Chin told him, pulling him closer and tugging Kono after. “His breathing was better and he started coming around.”

Danny leaned into the hug, head jerking in a rough nod. 

They stood huddled together, watching as the team of medics transferred Steve to a stokes basket and placed a chest tube with ruthless efficiency. Chin felt Danny’s flinch when Rhee made the incision in Steve’s side. 

When the chest tube was stabilized and the medics turned their attention to strapping Steve into the basket for transport, Danny finally pulled free and lurched to kneel at his lover’s side. 

Steve’s hand drifted up, reaching for the drain in his chest. Danny caught his wrist and lowered his cheek to press into the curve of Steve’s palm. His words were a low murmur, though Chin distinctly heard ‘you schmuck’ before he forced himself to turn away, feeling like a trespasser.

“Hey,” Kono said quietly. “You okay? That was pretty intense.”

“Yeah,” Chin lied. He gave her a lopsided smile. “Though I could do with never watching that up close again.”

The medics finished packaging Steve for the lift out. One of them gently, but firmly, pushed Danny back to give them room. In short order, the heavy lead from the HFD helicopter and the two medics were all clipped to the harness on Steve’s basket. The litter gave a shudder and then swayed as the line was hoisted skyward. 

Chin tracked the helicopter until he could no longer pick out the neon yellow against the brilliant blue of the sky. He would send Danny after Steve on the next lift out; but until then this was still Five-0’s crime scene and it wouldn’t do to hand it over to just anyone who happened to bring their own helicopter to the party.


	11. Chapter 11

The door to Steve’s hospital room stood ajar. Danny could hear the murmur of conversation from inside, punctuated by a rich, feminine laugh. He nudged the door open with the duffle bag in his hand and grinned to see Ellie there. She was kicked back in the chair that had spent two days ruining Danny’s back, feet propped on the end of Steve’s bed. She let her boots drop to the floor with a thump, standing to greet him with a warm hug and a quick press of her lips to his cheek.

“We were just talking about you,” she said, voice warm with fond teasing.

Danny made an exaggerated show of shuddering. “If it’s about Steve’s plan to turn me into George of the Jungle, would you please explain to him that it’s not gonna happen.”

Ellie laughed again. “You’re on your own there.” 

He surrendered the duffle to Steve, who was making impatient gimme hands toward the bag and the civilian clothing contained inside. “So what’s up?” He asked.

“I was just catching Steve up on your favorite hacker.”

Danny crossed his arms. “Oh?” he asked, mouth twisting in distaste.

Ellie made a pleased sound. “He might be a good hacker, but he’s lazy. That hard drive you recovered was encrypted, but the key—was on equipment he’d already surrendered under the original plea agreement. Crime lab cracked it this morning. So far seventeen agencies up and down the West Coast have applied for warrants off of information we provided. Should be a busy couple of days.”

“What happens to Liddell?”

“The original plea deal is void. My boss wants him on manslaughter, assaulting a peace officer, attempted homicide, and whatever else we can think to charge him with. And once Hawaii’s done with him, the Feds would like a crack. Best offer he’ll get now is to serve his time under an assumed identity.”

“Good. If the Feds ask, Liddell’s fond of Wichita, maybe they can find him a bed there.”

“Leavenworth,” Steve offered, scowling at the contents of the duffle.

“I need to get back to the office,” Ellie said. She thumped Steve on the foot. “Listen to Danny. I’ll see you soon.”

Danny saw her out and closed the door so Steve could get changed. When he turned around, Steve was holding the open duffle toward him with an accusing pout. “What? What’s with the face,” Danny asked, even though he’d anticipated this exact reaction when he’d packed a tee-shirt, sweats, and flip-flops for Steve to wear home.

“I can’t go to work in slippahs.”

“Correct,” Danny answered in a reasonable tone. “That would be an OSHA violation. Fortunately for you, you aren’t going to work.”

“It’s barely noon, of course I’m going to work. Didn’t you hear Ellie? There are search warrants to be served.” 

“I did hear Ellie. I heard the part where she told you to listen to me. There are other people who can execute a search warrant, Steven. Now, a long time ago, before you went and got yourself shot – which you are not forgiven for yet – I was promised a proper spoiling. I realize the Army doesn’t go in for that sort of thing, so I intend to take you home and demonstrate the proper technique. It’s not scary, and it doesn’t hurt, you may even enjoy yourself.”

“Danny.” It wasn’t quite a whine.

“Steven.” Danny countered. “You aren’t cleared to come back to work yet.”

“I’ll clear myself,” Steve argued. He tugged the hospital gown free, popping the shoulder snaps. 

Danny didn’t comment on how gingerly Steve eased the tee-shirt on. Instead he resorted to bargaining. “If you agree to go home and rest—and that doesn’t mean swim to the mainland, or dismantle the Marquis—if you go home and actually rest for the next two days, like your doctor ordered; I will agree to one day of G.I. Joe training.”

“Two days,” Steve countered immediately, and then asked, surprised, “It means that much to you?” He had an easier time pulling the sweats on, though it was obvious that bending over still hurt. 

“You mean that much to me,” Danny answered without hesitation; sometimes he ached with the need to pound how much he was loved and valued into Steve’s skull. “If I have to resort to bribery to get you to take care of yourself, I will. And it’s one day.”

“You being trained to handle any situation shouldn’t be something you bribe me with, it’s just sensible. One day, including overnight.”

“Sensible,” Danny scoffed, fully aware he was conceding a night spent sleeping rough in the jungle. “Just shut up and put on your slippers, G.I. Joe.”

“Love you too, Danno.”

[](http://s86.photobucket.com/user/MissMilley79/media/1%20-%20PhSkVtB_zpsutnuvokz.gif.html) [](http://s86.photobucket.com/user/MissMilley79/media/4%20-%2093LOXRb_zpsesducfil.jpg.html)   
[](http://s86.photobucket.com/user/MissMilley79/media/6%20-%20snBLl5p_zpsv6jm6ycd.jpg.html) [](http://s86.photobucket.com/user/MissMilley79/media/2%20-%20L0EzvNX_zpsctjof4gn.gif.html)  
[](http://s86.photobucket.com/user/MissMilley79/media/3%20-%20j2sgevr_zpsf10h98kh.gif.html) [](http://s86.photobucket.com/user/MissMilley79/media/5%20-%20Kv1V0ob_zpsngmjvs7p.jpg.html)


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